


Phantom of the Covent Garden

by christinefromsherwood



Series: 007 Fest 2019 [11]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Phantom of the Opera Fusion, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Established Relationship, In The Shadows, M/M, Making Out, Masked Balls used for their proper purpose, What Period Typical Homophobia?, but instead this happened, er there is actually no dancing, there was meant to be, which is apparently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 02:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19843675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood
Summary: “Have you heard?”“Heard what?”“The Phantom is coming to see our rehearsal!” Somewhere a hair-brush clattered noisily to the floor.For a moment, everything was silent in the Convent Garden chorus girls’ dressing-room. Then, the happy squeals began.





	Phantom of the Covent Garden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linorien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linorien/gifts), [Castillon02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castillon02/gifts), [Venstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/gifts), [azure7539](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure7539/gifts).



> written for the Collab Prompt table: Lin, cas, azure and Ven jointly requested a Victorian Era AU, with a masked ball and Phantom of the Opera references
> 
> And I thought, and pondered how to go about it, made a plan and then this happened instead :D 
> 
> I sort of like it, I hope they do too.

“Have you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“The _Phantom_ is coming to see our rehearsal!” Somewhere a hair-brush clattered noisily to the floor.

For a moment, everything was silent in the Convent Garden chorus girls’ dressing-room. Then, the happy squeals began.

“Oh are you sure, Bessie?! Please, be sure! Where do you have it from? Tell me you’re sure!” the girls implored Bessie one after the other.

“I’ve had it from Mr Tanner himself!” Bessie proclaimed and with an air of importance relished the following _ooohs_ and _aaaahs_.

The company at Covent Garden got the idea for the name from the French scandal they’d read about in the papers and it quickly gained popularity among all the staff, though the management didn’t like to hear them call their genius sparky by that name.

Mr Tanner felt it carried unpleasant connotations.

But it wasn’t as though there was anything malicious in the name, was there. They didn’t even know Mr. Q’s proper name, nor have they ever seen him in the building. He would always come in with his crew at night and by the time the play was ready to perform, would have come up with an ingenious way to create shadows, set the mood, hide the villain, highlight pain and joy on the actors’ faces that left the audience gasping and shrieking in delight.

Apparently, the Phantom and his people had been working in the theatre for several years but until that one glowing review by Mr Mallory in the Times, none of the actors and singers had paid much mind to how their shows got lit.

And now when they all so wanted to meet the man who lent so much glamour to their plays, to properly appreciate his efforts, the man himself didn’t seem to want to be found. It was infuriating and exciting in the best of ways.

“Do you think he’s handsome?” Young Henrietta queried as she began to smear her face with grease paint.

“Don’t be daft, Ettie! He’s got to be at least 60 to have got as good as he is!”

“No, he don’t-!”

“Doesn’t!”

“-doesn’t, then. Mr Phantom is an artist and a genius! Those are always young, eh? They’re always writing about young geniuses dead before their time, eh?”

The rest of the girls rolled their eyes at Henrietta but did not correct her. For one, they were not sure she wasn’t right...

“And _what_ are you grinning at over there, Prudence?” demanded Bessie of Miss Moneypenny’s dresser, who’d come in to borrow some pins from the girls and had stayed for the discussion.

“Nothing,” the dresser said with a small smirk, and made to start towards the dressing-room door. She was stopped before she made three steps.

“Oh no you don’t, missy!”

“You know something, don’t you?”

“I might,” Prudence admitted with a smug twist to her lips, which look quickly turned into one of mild alarm as twelve pairs of kohl-rimmed eyes turned upon her eagerly, and twelve strong, dancers’ bodies edged closer towards her.

With a blush darkening her cheeks and her palm clenched over the box with the pins for Miss Moneypenny, Prudence stammered out:

“I heard Miss Moneypenny and Mr Tanner talking about it. He’s to in come in at four-”

“So soon?! Flo, lend me your rouge!”

“You’ve got your own-!”

“But yours is so much more vibrant!”

“I shan’t-“

“… Mr Bond is bringing him,” Prudence effectively ended the argument.

What followed was a period of silence which allowed the new piece of information to spread and settle into every nook and cranny and make-up box of the dressing-room.

Then came the cries of dismay.

“Well, that’s torn your scheming, Ettie!

“Awwww, why are the interesting ones always taken?!”

“Might have known… The good ones always get snatched up.”

“Are you sure, Prudence?” Bessie turned to the dresser with a suspicious glint. “I mean, is Mr Bond _bringing_ him, or they simply coming in at the same time?”

Prudence edged closer to the exit.

“Errr,” she cleared her throat nervously. Then rallied.

She tended to melt into the shadows and had never had this much of the beautiful dancers’ undivided attention upon her before. It was quite exhilarating.

“Mr Tanner said he’d be going to the Masquerade at Cremorne Gardens with them after the rehearsal.”

“And? What else did he say?” Henrietta apparently didn’t want to give in to despair.

“Oh come now, Ettie, you know it’s hopeless. Even if they’re not going to the Gardens _together_ , one waltz with Mr Bond and they’ll be leaving together!”

They all nodded sagely, and in the moment of thoughtful silence, Prudence managed to slip outside the door.

As she leant her back against the dressing room door and fought the flush in her cheeks, she considered what excited looks the information she’d kept to herself might have gained her.

But no, it wouldn’t be right to share what she’d seen, and besides, she couldn’t be sure the two masked figures pressed together in a passionate embrace in box three were actually Mr Bond and the Phantom.

* * *

_after one waltz at the Cremorne Gardens_

“James! Someone will see!” scolded a young man while swatting ineffectually at the hand creeping up beneath his coat to fondle at the plush muscle the coat-tails were meant to cover.

“Will they now?” his partner growled low, as he went to press his lips and teeth against the delicate skin on the deliciously arched neck. “I thought that was rather the point of the masked ball.”

“It’s not?” the young man answered, but the wobble in his voice didn’t mark him as someone sure of what they were saying, and his eyes blazed hot behind his domino mask.

Pressed up against the side of the pavilion with his necktie all in disarray and kiss-bitten lips, he made for a most delicious sight, James thought.

“Oh, but it is, Q,” he whispered in his ear, and enjoyed the shiver that went through Q, and the clever fingers that buried themselves in his hair, and tugged and pressed him closer, as he brushed one fleeting kiss on an exquisite cheekbone before turning his attention back to Q’s neck.

“Or do you think that people came here tonight for the pleasure of dancing the Viennese waltz without having to look at their partner’s faces?”

A well-placed thigh and Q positively shuddered against him. Unhindered, James wrapped his arms around him and pressed closer. He needed to have him nearer, the whole precious entirety of this brilliant young man.

“If that’s so… then, I don’t see – ah, that’s… yes – I don’t see why we couldn’t have stayed in the box at the opera.”

James paused in his exploration, and raised his head to look into Q’s eyes. Even behind the mask, he could see they shone a bit startled at the suggestion.

“Oh my, Mr. Phantom, I do declare,” he purred and kissed the embarrassed giggle off Q’s lips, before he continued:

“Would you really have allowed me to have you there, my love? With the auditorium near empty and the rehearsal going on?”

All he got in reply was a breathy gasp and the sharp sting of teeth against his neck confirmed just how very much Q liked the idea.

He grinned and closing his eyes against the sensation of Q’s eager, trembling lips against his skin, he went on:

“But all of them know me there, Q, I own the place after all. And they would _all_ know, even the orchestra in the pit. Because you, my love, are not quiet.”

Q whimpered, as if to prove his point.

James shifted his knee slightly to tease out another delicious noise, before bending close to Q’s ear to breathe out:

“They’d all be able to tell _exactly_ how much the elusive Phantom of Covent Garden likes it when Mr Bond-”

“James,” Q interrupted with an urgency in his voice that had James looking up in alarm.

Q shook his head with a smile, and then with a wonderful glint in his eyes, continued in a voice that spoke of great restraint:

“This new tuxedo coat of yours cost a fortune, and if you don’t want to get cum stains on it, you should probably take me home.”

**Author's Note:**

> guys, I don't know if azure's on AO3... but if so, could you give me the username? :) There's so many azures I didn't know which one to tag...


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